“Beee buzz-buzz!” After two seasons surveying Champlain Valley shrubland, the simple three-note call is unmistakable. Even serious birders rarely hear a Golden-Winged Warbler, but the Audubon Vermont conservation team knows where to look. These pocket-sized songbirds nest each spring in the ephemeral transition zones that form after a managed grassland is abandoned. As hay and pasture lands take their first steps in reforestation, a temporary ecosystem of shrubby dogwoods and lanky young trees gains a brief foothold. A number of rare species depend on these shrublands. Much of Audubon Vermont’s conservation work involves resetting plant growth to slow this transition for as long as possible.

Out in the field, I set down a portable speaker and ready my binoculars. Golden-Winged Warblers cannot be identified at a species level by song alone. We will need a visual ID to distinguish them from the closely related Blue-Winged Warbler or one of their hybrid subspecies. This means we must behave as bad guests. Our recording mimics the intrusion of a rival male with a territorial challenge. Within minutes, our target male appears and begins to flit rapidly from tree to tree. While so effective that it almost feels like cheating, this method of summoning birds causes stress and should not be done without good reason.

In addition to Golden-Winged Warblers, Audubon Vermont focuses conservation efforts on several other priority birds, including Peregrine Falcons, Bald Eagles, Common Terns, and Bobolinks. The raptors have responded especially well, and both species now boast healthy regional populations. For others, the need is more ongoing. Breeding Bird Survey data show that Golden-Winged Warblers across North America have declined by half since the mid-1900s. While our local trends have been better, the Vermont population has never been large. Overall population and habitat trends have designated the Golden-Winged Warbler as a tipping point species requiring “immediate, focused scientific action” to preserve their numbers.

During long days in the field, I sometimes wonder about the importance we assign to rare wildlife such as these. Most of my time in AmeriCorps has been spent on a handful of species, including each of those mentioned above. For some, only a lost hiker or a very dedicated birder is ever likely to encounter them. Is it fair for them to receive so much of our attention? Do these birds somehow possess more value because they are rare?

In many cases, we do value rare wildlife more. I have known birders to rise before dawn and drive hours on obscure countryside roads for the chance to spot a reported rarity. When I worked as a naturalist in northern Minnesota, I would sometimes feel the thrill of encountering a set of wolf tracks, followed by mild disappointment that it was “just” a coyote that had passed this way instead. Perhaps this notion of value through scarcity originates in our free-market perspective. In the world of goods and commodities, a product’s worth is directly linked to its abundance. Cost rises as supply drops, and vice versa. The more of something we have, the less we care that we have it.

I often question this idea that rare wildlife should receive the most attention. While I agree that declining species deserve an outsized share of our conservation efforts, I try to remain mindful of the common ones as well. In pursuit of the elusive rarities, it would be a mistake to lose sight of the everyday beauty that already surrounds us. I aspire to see the world with enough gratitude that I can always enjoy a cardinal’s fiery plumage or a robin’s lilting refrain, even for the thousandth time.

While relevant, the arbitrary value we assign scarcity is not the only reason to protect Golden-Winged Warblers. We have both a moral and practical obligation to defend species from extinction. Moral, because each species is unique in the 3.7-billion-year history of life and will never exist again if lost. Practical, because the strength of an ecosystem lies in its biodiversity. Biological variability provides a set of checks and balances that increase resilience and buffer against stress.

The other case for dedicating our energy to rare birds involves the indirect benefits that result. In nature conservation, what is good for one species is almost always good for others. Golden-Winged Warblers are not the only birds that depend on Vermont shrublands. When the brush hogs drive in to grind down old foliage in the fall, the flush of new growth that arrives next spring attracts Eastern Towhees, Field Sparrows, and Brown Thrashers. Though our efforts target one bird, the results benefit the whole community. The same can be said for Audubon’s larger mission. We set our sights on bird conservation with the awareness that actions to help birds also sequester carbon, foster healthy forests and support robust pollinator communities. Acting on behalf of one species can drive ecosystem-wide biodiversity. What’s good for the warblers is good for everyone.

Back among the dogwood shrubs, the time has come for sharp eyes and quick hands. The territorial warbler will not sit still, and I have just a few quick seconds to take aim and focus my binoculars. Circling to track his darting form, on the fourth try I am able to get a clear look. Golden wing bars, a yellow cap and chest, and a thin black eye line tell me what I need to know. This is a Brewster’s Warbler, the more common of two subspecies hybrids between Golden- and Blue-Winged warblers. I shut off the recording; we’re done here.

Though he does not know it, the warbler may benefit from this interaction. The information we gather will help scientists at the US Fish and Wildlife service allocate funds in meaningful ways that maximize their impact. I have also gained from this interaction. Conducting these surveys for two seasons has introduced me to a new species that I’ve grown fond of. They impress me with their fearless approach and their petulant attempts to intimidate an animal 6,000 times their bodyweight. Through the efforts of Audubon Vermont and their many partnerships, these spunky songbirds have a hopeful future here. May they continue to charm adventurous birders for many decades to come.